The Butterfly
by Lily Maxwell The Dark Angel
Summary: A series of moments that lead to unexpected change within. Happiness, Sorrow, Pleasure, Love. Miharu/Yoite.


Based loosely on the chaos theory idea, and inspired by the movie _The Air I Breathe_, which talks about how the four key emotions in life are _Happiness, Sorrow, Pleasure_ and _Love.  
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_The Butterfly_

_a series of moments that lead to unexpected change within_

_by Lily M._

_1._

For a moment, he forgot everything.

His mind was focused on his one objective. It gave him strength to move his tired body.

…_a butterfly passe__s by his face…_

It gave him courage to keep on moving when all the odds kept telling to stop. His breath somehow failed him, but he kept on moving.

… _Miharu follows it with his eyes, and when it lands on a nearby flower, he moves over to look closer…_

His eyes hurt like he hadn't got enough sleep for days. He couldn't feel his hands. But his mind was focused on his one objective…

… _he trie__s to reach and touch it, but it flies away. He looks somewhat disappointed…_

And it gave him strength.

A smile in his direction.

_He i__s so confused, they were supposed to be running away, they were supposed to be scared, they were supposed…_

He reached out and pulled him gently by the hand. The sun was merciless against them, a bit too hot for that time of the year. Miharu stopped in the shadow.

… _he look__s so serene, he looks so indifferent, but that was expected, but why, why does he seem to be so peaceful…_

"I think it's going to rain."

… _there __is no time, no time at all, to chase butterflies, to talk about the weather, so why…_

"Miharu, we should get going."

The slow blinking of his eyes showed disappointment.

… _we need to get there, away from them, away from everyone, we need to go now, __**now**__…_

"Yoite."

The name was said with such familiarity. And it took his breath away.

"Just one day."

_Just one day, he said. Just one day to chase butterflies and to talk about the weather and to live like everyone else, but they __aren't everyone else, they…_

He took hold of his hand. He looked away, not able to look into those bright, green eyes.

_It said, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."_

And the irrelevant, ordinary events that followed were empty, they were meaningless. If one asked him what happened on that _just one day,_ he wouldn't be able to tell you. All he knew was that one single memory was born on that day. Just one, that lasted for about one minute out of the twenty-four hours in the day, remained.

For one minute, he echoed Miharu's laugh. Inside him, it was a whirlwind of emotions and visions and gentle, warm touches against his skin. For one minute, he wasn't the _Kira_ user of the World of Nabari. Miharu wasn't _Shinrabanshou._ This world, it wasn't the same world he tried to escape from.

For one minute, he echoed Miharu's laugh.

_Happiness._

_Miharu clung to him as he slept. It said, "I'm not going anywhere. You're not going anywhere."_

2.

And the whole building seemed to shake against the intensity of his power. Arms, face, covered in ancient writings. He opened his mouth. He guessed he couldn't speak.

… _he seems to be in pain, why, he's not supposed to be in pain…_

And he could hear his breathing, it was so loud, it was so forced, so _painful._ And he whispered, words he could not hear, words he wasn't sure he wanted to hear, because that Miharu, that Miharu was beyond his knowledge.

_Trust. He's consumed by trust._

The skies outside roared. The rain poured hard against the roof, and the outside walls, and it was so loud, he felt as if he was not out in shelter at all. The flashes inside matched the ones outside – _Shinrabanshou_ was like an angry god.

_It's taking so long, but soon, soon everything's going to be alright. He had __waited, all his life he has been waiting for this moment._

Suddenly, there were no more thunders in the sky.

Suddenly, _Shinrabanshou_ was no more.

He blacked out.

When consciousness was his again, all he could hear was the pouring rain. And all he could see was Miharu's body lying there, alone, unmoving.

There was no thinking as he ran.

_No, no, nonono…_

Was he hurt? Was he in pain? Was he _breathing?_

There was no thinking as he cried.

And he picked his body up, and he held him against his chest, and he brushed his bangs away from his eyes, and then called out his name.

… _and his own hands didn't hurt anymore, and caressing Miharu's cheek, he could _feel_ the skin beneath, he could _feel_ again, as much as his lungs didn't hurt anymore, and his ears could pick every raindrop sound…_

And he screamed. Louder than any thunder. More painful than any lighting.

…_why isn't he breathing, oh _God_…_

The sound of his own cries only echoed one thing.

_Sorrow._

And when those bright eyes opened again, he finally noticed that for a moment, he hadn't been breathing either.

_The sound of his name from those lips. There was never a more beautiful sound._

3.

Miharu clung to him as he slept. And because he was a light sleeper, he would wake up at every sudden movement on the other's part. Sometimes, when there was enough light in the room, he would give up any intent he had of falling back asleep. He would bask in the vision of Miharu sleeping.

Time hadn't made him grow much bigger. If anything, adjusted the body of a boy to that of a young man. His being small did not mean he was fragile in any aspect – he had witnessed many moments of clear spirit strength. He smiled at those memories.

_The memories you've given me, the memories I never quite wanted, but you gave them to me, and now I can't let them go, I can't let you go…_

His arm around his waist. Always touching. Miharu liked touching him, even when in the land of dreams. And he lied there, quiet, running his hand on soft black hair, gently enough not to wake him. And he watched until his body sent him to the lands of dreams himself.

Sometimes, he liked to wake Miharu up in a way only he could.

And he kissed him, he kissed his neck, he ran his hands under the thin fabric of his pajama shirt. Miharu never seemed to mind this way of waking up.

_He knows when he wakes up, taking a longer breath of air, moving up his hand to the places he knew he liked being touched, because Miharu now knew every part of his body…_

Sometimes he made a giggly sound only Miharu could do with that boyish voice of his, and he loved it. _He never loved being touched so much before._

_Pleasure._

When Miharu looked up at him, eyes dark with emotions he didn't dare naming, mouth parted just slightly, he couldn't control himself _at all._

4.

There were not enough books in this world that could not make him look at the clock every half-hour, as he waited for Miharu to come back home.

_Tick tack, tick tack, only two hours left…_

The book was interesting, he couldn't deny. A lot of them were, though a lot of them were also a big waste of his time. However, no time was wasted, but merely _spent,_ for the sake of waiting for Miharu to come back home.

_Tick tack, tick tack, one hour and a half left…_

Sometimes he would read a cooking book, one of those that belonged to Miharu's grandparents, because now he wanted to know how to cook, because Miharu's grandmother would smile at him when he spent time with her. He didn't know if liking him was also part of the wish Miharu made to _Shinrabanshou._ He didn't quite believe it was.

_Tick tack, tick tack, and just one hour now…_

He was smart, everyone else would agree. Everyone else consisting of Miharu and his family. And those were the ones that mattered anyway. It wouldn't take long for him to get a job in the surface world – those were the only ones that mattered anyway.

_Tick tack, tick tack, here hoping he could come home earlier today…_

But him being smart, him liking silly books, nothing held any importance more than Miharu smiling at him when he got home, letting out that exhausted sigh, and just throwing himself on the nearest couch, complaining about something or another.

_Every single moment of his day was for that one moment._

He supposed a life like this was ordinary. Perhaps, even mediocre. But mediocrity suited him just fine, for the long time he spent being special and having people make him do things he didn't really want to do, didn't really _wish_ to do. Because during those times, he was simply a boy who hated everything about himself, and just wanted to be erased.

_Until Miharu._

And then…

_Tick tack_

Miharu came home, flashing him a small smile, throwing the books of the last year of school somewhere, and simply letting himself fall into the couch that contained Yoite. He would look up at him, and would whisper a _"I'm home."_

_He wanted to disappear inside those eyes._

And he would reply with a just as low _"Welcome back."_

_Love._

He had been waiting, all that time, for that one moment in which the one who changed his life would come.

_And every second spent was worth it._


End file.
